Application: Amat
CHARACTER
» Name: Balfour
» Fandom: Havemercy
» Reference: http://havemercy.wikia.com/wiki/Balfour
» Canon Point: Just after arriving in Lapis to destroy the Dome
» Gender: Male to both
» Age: Assumed to be early twenties
» Orientation: Insistently heterosexual but possibly bi-curious. Like all of the Dragon Corps, Balfour attempts to be a man’s man, and thus, a ladies man- however, in the books there are hints, allusions, that he may have something of a thing for Thom, as he becomes fairly petulant, petty and jealous (though not too obviously) when Thom begins spending more time with Rook during the elder Airman’s charade- and similarly when he brings Hal to the Airman to get the Corps’ help.
» Personality: Both the youngest and newest member of the Dragon Corps, Balfour is a startlingly-polite, somewhat nervous young man with a penchant for worrying at his gloves constantly, whether he’s wearing them or not. Despite having been exposed to the rest of the lewd, crude Airmen that serve as his fellows, he’s somehow managed, throughout his time in the Corps, to maintain most of the manners he learned as a child in a high-class family, setting him a fair bit apart from most of the other Airmen. He’s a fairly friendly young man- he barely hesitates in being friendly to Thom when he meets the person who’s supposed to be trying to ‘civilize’ the lot of them, in fact seeming quite enthusiastic to have someone with a similar attitude to converse with.
He also seems fairly sympathetic, warning Thom when he moves in to the Airman (the Dracon Corps barracks, so to speak) about the sort of pranks that are likely to be played on him- pranks which were all played on Balfour when he first became a member of the Corps, more than like. However, he also seems to be quite the jealous type, becoming snappish and sour when he believes Thom prefers someone’s company (like Rook’s or Hal’s) over his- though it does not appear to be something he does consciously, considering that he would hardly be the type to give Rook more ammunition against him in his usual harassment teasing.
Despite it being something that he’s obviously picked on for, however (by, once again, Rook- who makes it a habit to compare him to a woman at every available turn) Balfour doesn’t seem to intend to change his personality to better fit in with the rest of the Corps. Not to say he doesn’t get along well enough with most of them- though with the Dragon Corps ‘getting along’ is used loosely, at best- but he’s simply aware enough of himself not to let himself get too caught up in the almost fraternity-like mindset of most of the rest of the Corps- though when it comes down to it, he fits in where it matters most- in the air.
» Appearance: Balfour is described as dark-haired and pale-skinned, obviously of a noble line, and looking fairly young- young enough for Thom to perceive them as the same age, at least.
» Suitability: N/A
SAMPLES
» 'amatomnes' Entry: [The device is set on the bed next to its owner, and all that’s readily visible is a torso clothed in blue and the beginning of white pants, the hands that would be folded in his lap worrying a pair of gloves between idle fingers. It takes a good moment for him to decide what to say, and he half-turns, finally, to attend to the device.]
I should, I believe, very much like to hear a proper explanation- other than the one those maids’ve given me.
[He sounds put-out, and more than a little petulant, though he likely doesn’t realize it.]
I mean- this is rather one of the better jokes I’ve had pulled on me, even if it’s been a while-
Then again, one can’t really put it past the rest of them to get too carried away with celebrating a victory.
[He pauses there for a moment, unsure, and his fingers tug absently at his gloves.]
Ah-that is to say, I’m presuming we somehow won and made it out alive because I can’t say as I properly recall anything past flying Anastasia toward the dome, so…
Ace? Luvander? [And then, with a mite more suspicion:] Rook? Would you lot come out of where you’re hiding already? I really would like to go home now. Lovely as this place is, I do believe I’ll be wearing out my welcome here sooner rather than later.
» 'amatomneslogs' Entry: Lapis was burning.
Lapis was burning and despite the fact, Balfour couldn’t have been more distracted from it than he was, lips- like certain other parts- pressed hot and hard against his partner’s, Anastasia’s wings reflecting the firelight all around them in a haze. Not that either he or his partner much noticed (or cared about) her presence, busy as he was trying to make his companion’s back one with the wall supporting them both in this endeavor. There was a low, throaty sound- whether from him or his companion he didn’t know, and his mouth pulled away, sliding down to be put to equally good use against a pale throat, hearing his name half-breathed, half-moaned into his ear, belly tightening, blood heating as if finally being affected by the flames around them…
He woke moments later to a mess in the sheets and a startled look at his surroundings, blowing his hair out of his face to get a better look around. His state of dress- or rather, undress- didn’t bother him in the least, and he rolled his eyes to think of how used he was to the… antics, he supposed was the best word, of the other Airmen to be too greatly bothered by it. Granted, it wasn’t as if he didn’t wake in a similar enough state on his own some mornings- but then again, in those instances, he could remember, at the very least, getting to where he’d passed out nude. Something, however, didn’t quite add up in this instance, and as he moved to tug his breeches on, he realized just what it was.
That dream of Lapis burning hadn’t just been a dream- or at least, the beginning of it, before it had changed into… something else entirely.
It had been their mission. They’d gone to Lapis not intending to return- not by any stretch of the imagination, and yet-
Yet there he was, waking naked in an unfamiliar bed in a place far too fancy for any of the Dragon Corps, and yet he had no doubt that somehow it was their fault for his waking there as he had. He scoffed then, rolling his eyes a little and beginning to wonder just who would have masterminded such a thing (not that he really had to wonder of course, there was only one real answer), fingers moving to do up the buttons of his Corps jacket, when he came across It. A pause and then a stroll over to the nearest mirror had him turning fairly crimson with mortification, eyes going wide and fingers coming up to tug at the… the collar of all things, hanging loosely around his neck. Granted, it was rather nice- poetic really, the way it looked to be made of the same scale-like material that made up most of Anastasia- but the fact remained that it was a collar and nothing else.
And that, he thought, was perhaps a step too far. But the harder he tugged on it, the less it seemed like it would budge, and even as he moved to try and find a clasp, he almost instinctively knew it wouldn’t be easy to remove. Not if the Corps had anything to do with how it had gotten on him, at least. Finally, he gave up, making a frustrated noise and assuming he’d need some help to get the Bastion-damned thing off, he took a deep breath, fully intending to give the others the reaction they were likely waiting for when the door opened and a young woman walked in, stopping after a couple of paces in after seeing that he was awake.
“Oh- ah, hello. I don’t mean to sound-that is, with all due respect, I… uh. I can’t quite seem to recall most of last night and… well. Are you the one I-?”
The girl offered him a bland stare in response (which he took to mean ‘no’) and then opened her mouth and began to explain.